She wore a red dress today…
Not to accentuate the scorching fire within,
Or even sneer at every flaming ember.
Ultimately the sunset hue was her fancy,
Boundary of daylight.
Motionless yet marvelling at its ambience,
She firmly pondered,
If such a borderline can be pieced,
Near her wounded heart.
Lodged in captivity,
A taunting perimeter,
Adorned in solid armour.
Just a fiery crimson flatters the horizon,
Where mere mortals gaze in pure fondness.
Though in reality,
A whimsical median,
The story far from finished.,
Fate rests like bedecked poppies
In a methodical maneuver,
Her intuition works overtime,
Movement is imminent and inevitable.
She wore a red dress today…

(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.

4 thoughts on “HOSTAGE

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